It was a great relief when she asked me if I’d like to stay and talk, and she offered to write me an excuse if I did.
It was nice to have someone to dump on, and she said she’d always be there for me, no matter what.
In a way, I’m glad it’s over. It’s hard work to keep a secret. She has to report it to the principal, but not to worry, this is an enlightened school.
Friday, March 29
5:16 P.M.
Good Friday? The worst Friday ever!
Enlightened school? Apparently during first class, the word leaked out about me, because by second class everyone was looking at me like I was from another galaxy, or like the stick-figure, big-headed Mars person in cartoons. I knew they knew! I could read it all over them. Even Mr. Lindstrom in my English class looked at me quickly, then looked away, like he didn’t know how to act.
I tried to concentrate on Chapter 12, but my mind was jumping around like a frog inside my head. I guess if I was Marxie Koffer, who sat next to me, and she was me, I’d be curious and uncomfortable or something too. We’ve never had anyone in our school with AIDS before, that anyone knew about. Marxie smiled at me self-consciously, then buried her head in her book like a snake going down its hole. But the book couldn’t hide her. She still had to look up at me once in a while to be sure…whatever.
It didn’t get better. In the halls, the kids were all ganged up in little groups whispering wildly, and when I came by, everybody quieted down and tried to become invisible or tried to be too overly friendly. It was weird for all of us.
I tried not to get too weirded out, because I’m sure in their place I’d have done the same and felt the same…maybe just plain uncomfortable with something totally new and off the wall.
The gaggle and I had lunch together on the hill, and they all offered to defend me, but it wasn’t defense I needed, it was…I guess just time. Everyone knows I’m not Typhoid Mary or anything…but I still noticed that when I went to the girls’ room, no one wanted to use the stall after me. They all waited for one of the others. I could see it in the mirror as I washed my hands.
I keep telling myself to give them time…time…time. But I don’t know how much time I’ve got. Oh, that’s morbid and dumb. But those dumb thoughts occasionally flash into my brain.
Wednesday, April 3
10:31 A.M. and Four Seconds
Things are about back to normal at school. Mrs. Maggleby, the school nurse, gave out little booklets again to everybody about AIDS, and I think that made us all feel better. In fact, some of the kids who were just cardboard cartoons before have gone out of their way to be nice. I’m glad I told. It’s soooo much pressure off me.
Things aren’t today like they were when Ryan White was in school in the 1980s. His family even had to move to another town because the people at his school wouldn’t let their kids come to school if he was there. Isn’t that about the saddest?
Thursday, April 4
10:10 A.M.—World History
We had the Wowest assembly. Mr. Chen, our science teacher’s cousin, is touring America with an acrobat group. Two of the guys came and did things that all of us would have considered impossible. Then Mr. Chen explained how important concentration and mind control are to body control. It made us all want to work a little harder in school.
Sunday, April 7
11:04 P.M.
I’d like to tell you all the mag things that happened today out at Lew’s uncle Morton’s, but I’m just too tired…and besides, I want to relive every fraction of a second of it over again and again and again in my dreams.
Monday, April 8
4:46 P.M.
Dear Self:
My periods are a big pain now. I can flush the tampons down the toilet, but I feel guilt because signs in each bathroom at school say not to. One day I tried to put the used one in a plastic bag in my purse, but…I WILL NOT DO THAT AGAIN…EVER. That is too degrading and humiliating—and what if I dropped my purse and it fell out? I’d die right there on the spot. I truly would; at least I hope I would.
Tuesday, April 9
Math Class
Our big MATH STATE REPORTS came back today, and I’m sooooo pleased. I got A-. If I hadn’t been out of school so much, I’d have gotten an A, I’m sure. Lew and I decided at the beginning of the term that we would do our very best. I’m sure he got an A, but I won’t know till tomorrow because he left early to practice something or other. Maybe I’ll call him at home. I guess that’s a good enough reason, don’t you think?
Wednesday, April 10
7:30 P.M.
I should have known it was too good to last. Kids are mean and cruel and sadistic and evil and twisted. It was like the most nightmarish of all nightmares. I was just walking down the hall, minding my own business, when the twins, Mick and Mack, and Gregg turned the corner. The twins were tussling with Gregg, and when they saw me they started forcing him in my direction, giggling. “Give him a deep French kiss, Nancy. Give him a deep, wiggling French kiss”—they broke up with laughter—” and your special something as well.” They were pressing him against my body, which was against my locker, and his forehead banged mine. I tried to yell, “Ouch,” “HELP,” but nothing came out. Other kids were walking down the hall, but it seemed hours before they pulled the three creatures from Hell off me.
The principal called Mom and she was there in minutes to rescue me. I don’t think I’ll ever go back to real school again. Home school wasn’t so bad.
Thursday, April 11
2:45 A.M.
Principal Paula O’Raynie just left our house. She’s pretty good at sweet-talking. Between her and Miss Shephard, the school counselor, I guess I accept that the boys were just being thoughtless, playful and dumb, and that I have to rise above their childishness, but I really had a bad, sleepless, pain-filled night!
Mick and Mack have been suspended indefinitely. Their parents have put them under curfew, and they have to have home study. I wish it was legal to give them forty lashes and tie them up by their thumbs like we read about in one book, but, of course, that would be considered too uncivilized and barbaric. I wonder if they realize how barbaric and uncivilized their actions were to me.
I finally consented to come back to school on Monday because it’s Doodle Day, where the teachers try to do what the kids want for a change. At first I thought I couldn’t; then at noon, Lew and “his harem”—as some of his tennis team still call us—telephoned, and I guess I’ll heal from that horrible experience too, but I’m not sure.
Friday, April 12
5:45 P.M.
I guess all the kids at school heard what happened, because most of them were extra nice to me. I suspect Mrs. Maggleby or the principal talked to them over the loudspeaker, but maybe it just came through the grapevine. Anyway, I wish they’d just treat me like they treat everybody else. I want to be JUST ME, not the girl with AIDS!
10:10 P.M.
Sometimes I wonder if the kids are nice to me just because they’re glad I’m not them! I wonder if they wonder if they might have HIV too. Cheese, I wonder if any of them do. I remember how some of the guys used to brag about having “done the deed,” thinking it was macho and stuff. And everyone’s always called Nelly Sivers “Loosie Goosie,” seeing her around with real old guys. This is a nice, clean little town…but is it possible that some of our kids have it and won’t know for years and years and years? Maybe I’m lucky that my immune system is so low that I knew after less than a year…or am I? Life is so, so, so, so complicated, isn’t it?
Wednesday, April 24
7:17 P.M.
The last week or more have been so busy and dizzy I haven’t had time or energy to write. School will be out in 44 days, and Red and El and Dorie and I have been trying to get all the life into our lives that we can push, pull, shove, take or make…at least Dorie and I have—for different reasons, to be sure. It’s hard to believe that in about four months Dorie will be a mother. Imagine, Dorie a mom to a real live 24-hour-a-day n
eeding-care baby. I’m glad we had Mom’s sister’s baby, Bonny, with us that time. It really gave me a different perspective about babies, especially since a big apartment-house deal came up for Mom and I had to do most of the care-giving. It might have been different if Mom had been home, and I could just have played with the little kid when I wanted to. That doesn’t mean that I don’t someday want Lew’s and my children, just not when I’m still a kid myself. Adults are different; they don’t mind doing diapers, changing wet diapers, giving baths, dressing, and then it’s time to start over. Poor Dorie. Anyway, she’s having fun now. She just wears her blouses on the outside and wears bigger shorts and pants.
Me, I just do my thing, hit every bathroom or ladies’ room within sight. I think my kidneys are about the size of peanuts…oh a joke…not very ha-ha, though.
Tuesday, May 7
11:20 A.M.
Can you believe it, El is having a birthday party for ME. I’m so excited. She is inviting TWENTY KIDS, and we’re going to have a barbecue at her house, then go to a movie, then come home and dance on their volleyball court. I can’t wait. I SIMPLY CANNOT WAIT! Time has stopped still in its tracks. I guess I love dancing with Lew more than anything in this whole world, more even than Baskin Robbins Pralines and Cream ice cream! One time I asked Dorie, after we’d seen the sexy part of Ghost, when she was sleeping over, what sex was really like, and she giggled and said, “Better than 31 Flavors Pralines and Cream ice cream.” I’m glad she said that, because Pralines and Cream is about as good as it can get at this point in my life. I know it’s dumb and infantile, but I think of it every time I have some.
6:30 P.M.
After work, Mom bought me this darling pink pantsuit. It’s got a big, bright-colored parrot on the front with long blue-and-red feathers dangling to the waist. I love it. LOVE IT, LOVE IT! And she bought me these really nice sandals just exactly the same shade of bright dark blue as the parrot feathers, and a big chiffon bow for my hair. I know Lew will love it. I hope he still loves me. I wonder if he really does…if he can. It really scares me when I honestly look at myself deep inside. I’m soooo, so painfully exhausted all the time, and I have to push myself hard to do all the things that the other kids do with ease. Often when I go to the bathroom, I just lie on the floor with my feet up against the wall for a couple of minutes to try and get myself tied back together, even when it’s a kind of icky place with no privacy. Oh well, I’ve always been kind of a sickly kid…but how come some people have lots of years before the HIV virus turns to full-blown AIDS? Okay, Scarlett, “think about that tomorrow.” I’ve got to read that book, but it’s so biggggggg. I guess I’ll do that too some “tomorrow” or the next day.
Whatever Day
8:27 P.M.
All the kids who are coming to MY birthday party are as excited as I am. We meet in the halls and giggle and jump up and down. Even the guys are acting goony. It’s been a long, long time since the last really something party, which this will be. El’s parents really know how to do things up right and bright. They’re even renting the bus that looks like a trolley to take us to the movie and bring us back. Isn’t that the most mag thing you’ve ever heard? Lew and I are going to sit on the backseat. That was his idea! I wonder what he has in mind. I wish it was what I have in mind, but it probably isn’t. Besides, I didn’t really even mean that! I don’t think he’d even kiss me in public, but who knows…maybe. His relatives are all very physical, kissing and hugging and bugging us. I like that. That’s the way we’re going to be.
Thursday, May 9
10:05 P.M.
It seems like it’s been Thursday FOREVER. Won’t Thursday ever go away. I want it to be Friday…NOW…NOW…NOW. I’ve fantasized every moment. Well, gotta go start dinner. Mom will be home early. She’s got a night appointment to close a deal. I hope it goes through; they don’t always. ’Bye.
Cross your fingers, Self, so Friday will come faster, okay?
Friday, May 10
5:30 A.M.
I’ve got to go back to sleep. I’ve put out all my clothes and puttered around for about an hour. I’ll probably fall asleep over dinner with my face in the barbecue. Not likely with Lew around! But I really had better start relaxing and concentrating on my slow breathing in and out and nothing else. That is supposed to work to get people to sleep.
Good night…er…well…whatever.
Tonight is really going to be the Good night!! Imagine, me sixteen! Old enough to date! Old enough to drive!
5:30 P.M.
I’ve washed and rewashed my hair and put it up 37 different ways, but I still look a mess. I wanted to look my very best, and here I am with a yick on my forehead like Mount Vesuvius about to erupt. Lew might see me and run. I hope Mom will be able to help me cover it with makeup. I think she can. She’s very good with those things. Besides, I’m definitely going to wear bangs, at least on that side. I’ll have Mom trim some. I wonder if I can take Mom with me when I get married. Sometimes I can’t wait to get away, and then other times, like this minute, it’s…I don’t know…I’m such a loony tune, retard, jerk sometimes.
6:30 P.M.
I’m going nuts. Where can Mom be? I hope she hasn’t had an accident or something. She said she’d be home early. We have to leave in 49 minutes, and she’s got to trim a little bang and put the magic makeup on before that. I’m all dressed and going crazy. Where could she be? Maybe she had a heart attack, or maybe she was showing a house to some weirdo and…that’s really out in coo-coo land…but those things happen. Cheese, I wonder if this is how she worries about me when I’m a little late or something. I never thought about that.
Oops, I hear her key in the door.
Wish me luck and kisses and everything, especially kisses, right? RIGHT?
I’ll probably be up all night telling you every little delicious detail. I will. I promise.
10:22 P.M.
Oh, dearest of dear Self:
I’m so glad, so thankful, so appreciative that I have you. Who else could I turn to? I couldn’t possibly tell Mom. It would be too hurtful to her. It’s bad enough as it is. My problem has hurt her more than any mother should ever, ever be hurt. Poor Mom…poor me…poor, poor Mom…poor, poor, poor me.
But back to the very beginning. The party started out so wonderfully. Lew was there when I arrived, and he was waiting for me. I got shivers just seeing him in his blue pants and his blue-and-white-check shirt. It is a sight that is permanently locked into my brain, him smiling like he was seeing sunshine and color for the first time, his cowlick sticking up like always, and his little blond front curl hanging down in his left eye. What a celestial-planet sight. Oh, and everybody else was there too. El had asked them to come at 6:15. They all yelled, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY,” and threw confetti and those long paper streamers at me that are usually only used on New Year’s. But I guess this is the beginning of a New Year. I’m sixteen! I can’t believe it. Then everyone picked the confetti out of my hair and off my clothes. I felt like Princess Di or someone especially special.
El’s dad, who is the best sport in the world, started a tape and then a conga line. We weaved and weaved around the patio furniture and the volleyball area and bushes and trees and stuff, going faster and faster until people were falling down on top of one another. I’d have fallen a dozen times if Lew hadn’t stopped me. Then El’s dad told me I was to choose one “little girl’s game” before I was officially a sixteen-year-old young woman.
Everyone started yelling: Jacks, Spin the Bottle, Post Office, Jump Rope, all the night games, but I decided on Pretty or Ugly. You know, where you spin someone till they are dizzy, then tell them they have to look like whatever statue you call at the last minute.
It was sooooo fun and funny. Red fell down in a crazy awkward sprawl, and Mark called “Pretty” just as he let go. We all almost cried, we were laughing so hard. Lew was very gentle with me and called “Pretty” like I knew he would. He is so sweet and mature. He said I couldn’t look ugly if I tried. Isn’
t that precious and unteenage boylike? But I guess that’s not so strange. All of his relatives are respectful of themselves and everybody else. It’s a wonderful thing I’m trying to put into my own life.
The barbecue was mag, even though El did burn her arm on the grill, and they had to stop and get ice and stuff, and Donny’s drink popped up and showered his face and hair and got some on Delta, who is the prissiest thing in the world. You would have thought he had tarred and feathered her. She wanted to call her mom to come and get her so she could change her clothes, but El’s mom finally cleaned her off and cooled her down. I spilled a mixture of mustard and catsup down the front of my shirt, as usual, when it squished out the end of my hamburger, but Lew said it blended with my parrot feathers, and when I looked in the mirror, sure enough it did.
Does Lew control not only my heart but my brain and eyesight as well?
The movie was really funny. Lew put his arm around me and held my hand and I was in heaven. They could have shown the worst movie in the world, and I would have loved, loved, loved every second of it.
All twenty of us were laughing and being silly, and I suspect all the other people in the audience hated us, but we didn’t care. At least Lew and I didn’t care. We were being very quiet and wonderful. I felt like making the nice little sounds that birds make when they’re comfortably settling down in their nests for the night…or that kittens make when you’re petting them in front of an open fire. I wanted the movie to never, never end.
Two or three times Lew reached over and kissed me quickly on the cheek or ear. It was like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir began singing the “Hallelujah” chorus. Every molecule in my body stood up at attention with their hands across their hearts—that is, they would have if they had hands and hearts.
Uhhhhhh…this part is even hard to write. I hope I can dump it all on you and never think of it again…wouldn’t that be wonderful. Maybe someday they’ll have a FORGET pill. I hope so. Anyway, I was sitting there in the movie, leaning on Lew’s shoulder and purring as contently as any creature ever could…